


De-stressing

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Mostly UST, Romance, Showers, intimate but not as much as it could be, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26821345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: It was hard to tell whether the effort was an intentional one or not; Dimitri was effective when he wanted to be, and yet he could be utterly dense on that very same subject at times.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	De-stressing

He hadn’t even bothered to undress.

She found him in the bathroom after midnight, where a glance at the glass door to the shower told her he was still in his boxers.

If he noticed her, he didn’t react. He was still, head hanging as hot water ran over his form and left his hair in a sopping curtain around his face.

Edelgard stepped through the doorway. The mirror wasn’t so fogged up yet that she couldn’t glimpse her reflection. With her tired eyes and her disheveled brown hair fallen partially loose from its high ponytail, she looked as though she’d just climbed out of bed herself.

_“El－!”_ A thump and a thud said he’d seen her. She looked forward again to see him narrowly avoid busting his ass as he caught himself on the shower wall. “When did you－?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

He stared at her blearily for a few seconds before that appeared to sink in. His shoulders slumped. “Oh. I’m… sorry. It died earlier. I forgot.”

She sighed, but it was a lighthearted sound. “It’s fine. I was at the office late, anyway.” And his apartment was only five minutes out of the way on her commute. She watched him lean down and turn the water off.

“Long day,” he muttered by way of an explanation. It _was_ enough of an explanation for someone who knew him as well as she did. There were much worse states he could have ended up in than a clothed shower, so she was willing to believe it was something as simple as stress.

She nodded at the faucet. “Turn it back on.”

“El?”

“On,” she repeated, brooking no argument, and shrugged off her jacket. By the time she started unbuttoning her blouse, Dimitri had recovered from his surprise and obeyed, filling the bathroom with the sound of running water once more. She ignored him as she went on stripping at an unhurried but efficient pace, and then finally raised her eyes as she reached around to unhook her bra. She glanced at his soaked boxers and raised her eyebrows, at which he immediately hurried to remove them.

After letting her hair down she grabbed a washcloth off the shelf and opened the shower door.

“Make room,” she said simply.

(As if they were kids again and she was telling him to move over on the couch, shoving at his offensively long legs.)

(As if they were teenagers again, fumbling around in the tiny passenger seat of her car because in their hurry they hadn’t thought to move to the back instead.)

He obeyed and she stepped inside. She had to reach around him for the bottle of soap, a motion that brushed her chest against his and made his breath catch. Lingering there a moment, she looked up into his tired face. She smiled sweetly.

“Don’t get too excited. I’m as exhausted as you are.” Dropping the smile just as quickly, she lathered up the cloth, intent on making sure he was actually cleaned. She might as well stay the night since she was here, which meant they would be sharing the bed, which meant she didn’t need him smelling as tired as he looked.

Perhaps Dimitri deduced her paper-thin excuse, since he took her gently by the hips and pulled her a half-step closer to kiss her forehead. She felt the deep rumble of a chuckle in his chest. Ignoring the heat in her skin that had nothing to do with the hot water, she made quick but careful work of scrubbing his broad shoulders, his toned arms, his chest and sides. She cleaned his back by pressing flush against him and reaching around, her hands moving in slow, steady circles as she worked her way down. His grip on her tightened slightly and she had to set her jaw for a couple beats to hide how much she liked it.

(Not that he didn’t _know._ He knew a lot of things about her, the sorts of things even she hadn’t known before he coaxed them out of her with those clumsy but skilled hands of his. That contrast in his touches was as stark as how mild and softspoken he was normally versus the absolutely feral manner with which he could tear into her when prompted－)

When she reached his thighs, Edelgard wrung out the rag and then slapped it up into his face. “You can finish,” she told him. There were times she would be willing to kneel for him, but tonight wasn’t it. Leaving him to it, she stepped aside to start washing her hair.

She’d just finished rinsing it out when he stepped up behind her. His palm glided across her flat stomach, slick with a handful of soap.

“Can I return the favor?” he breathed in her ear. It was hard to tell whether the effort was an intentional one or not; Dimitri was effective when he wanted to be, and yet he could be utterly dense on that very same subject at times.

Either way, his question most certainly had _an effect_. “Yes,” she answered simply, not trusting her voice to say much more.

His hands were big enough that the cloth wasn’t necessary. Edelgard was glad he didn’t use one. His calloused palms felt good on her skin, like always, and there was something strangely electrifying about the way he touched her now, seeking every inch of her skin and working the lather over it attentively, gently, if still with that hint of unavoidable roughness that he was known for. That extra bit of force worked in her favor, massaging the day’s fatigue from her muscles and occasionally pressing her a little more firmly against his warm chest.

She held her breath when he cupped her breasts, but there was no teasing in the way he stroked and rubbed them before moving on. He worked down her arms, lacing their fingers briefly to get between her knuckles and over her palms. He rubbed down her back, his thumbs finding and working her favorite spots.

_He_ had no issue kneeling. He did so slowly, moving down her thighs inch by inch, and she bit her lip when he placed a soft kiss between her shoulders, and then lower on her spine, and then lower still as he continued to crouch.

“I said I was tired,” she reminded him, her tone utterly unconvincing even in her own ears.

“I know.” His low voice was barely audible over the water. “I can tell.”

There was no teasing when his fingers moved between her legs, either. All too soon, he was done, and after a final, fleeting kiss to her shoulder, he turned the water off. The silence that followed felt even thicker than the echo of running water.

They dried themselves separately, with only the occasional glance from Edelgard in Dimitri’s direction－at the way his shoulders moved, the water still running in rivulets down his back－and she felt a pang of fond annoyance. He wasn’t even _trying_ to tease her, and yet…

She brushed the tangles out of her hair as he disappeared into the bedroom. He returned a moment later in dry boxers and offered her a T-shirt. Edelgard accepted it, holding his gaze as she pulled it over her head and satisfied with the way his eyes followed her movements, lingering on where the shirt stopped around her thighs.

The full extent of her fatigue came rushing back at the sight of his unmade but comfortable bed. A quiet groan finally escaped her as she slipped beneath the blankets that smelled like him; his warmth against her back seconds later nearly sent her to sleep right then. The touch of both the cool sheets and his shower-soft skin was euphoric and whatever he murmured against the back of her neck went unheard.

They awoke in a tangle as they often did, his head on her chest and her arms holding him there. She stroked his hair absently for a while, until he finally pulled himself up to join her at eye-level.

“How long are you staying?” He caressed her thigh, the motion innocent enough but for the way her shirt was bunched up around her ribs and she wore nothing underneath.

Glancing aside, Edelgard dragged her calf along his thoughtfully. “I guess that depends on you.”

He exhaled softly at the half-joke, half-proposition and leaned in with a grin to kiss her, the wandering of his hands no longer innocent.

They would have an excuse for another shower, she thought with some satisfaction, and this time she wouldn’t be so tired.


End file.
